


Carry on my wayward

by Justasmalltownfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Hunter Sam, M/M, My First Destiel Fanfic, One Shot, Retired Dean, Retired Hunter Dean, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 21:57:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4453886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justasmalltownfangirl/pseuds/Justasmalltownfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically how I imagine Supernatural ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry on my wayward

One last time Sam looks back at them, before he's going to get in the Impala and drive away into infinity.

Cas is leaning towards Dean, his head firmly placed on his shoulder and Dean's arm over his. They're in the doorway, he's on the driveway and his hand is already on the car door.

Cas smiles a tired smile and raises his hand ever so slightly, as if he's weak after his years of hunting. Sam waves at him, knowing very well it's the last time he will ever see the angel. Dean remains still, his face remains emotionless. Sam looks at his older brother and smiles. He isn't going to say goodbye, that would make things too official. Of all the times they have parted it has never been so final, that smile will have to do.

Sam has opened that door a thousand times, yet it has never been so heavy. He's sat in that exact same place so many times, but it has never been quite as cold as then.

The black 1967 Chevy Impala backs down the driveway, then continues down the street without any hesitation. The car is ready for whatever comes next, and so is it's driver. If he had looked back again he would had seen tears build up in his brother's eyes, but he doesn't. He drives down the street without ever looking in the back mirror, without seeing anything but freshly painted houses and gardens full of playing children and daisies and surrounded by white picket fences. He smiles to himself. Dean has deserved this, it's time for him to finally rest. He has fought so hard for so long, but now it's Sam's turn. With a trunk full of weapons and wanderlust in his heart he drives towards the horizon as the sunset lights his way.

The radio is blasting out rock that he would usually tun off, but now he only smiles. Not once does he look back, he has a world to save.

***

In a different world in a different time an old man's hoarse voice quiets. The children look at him with excitement, still expecting the stories to continue. The stories the strange old man on the park bench has been telling them for a long time, the stories about the two brothers that both broke and saved the world more times than they can count, and the fallen angel that stood by them through it all. But the old man remains quiet and doesn't speak a word.

”And then?” one child eventually says, because there has to be a then, there always is, the story always continues.

”Then nothing”, the old man says. ”Sam continued hunting for a few years, until he died a regular hunter's death. Dean never knew. He died an old man in a hospital bed with Cas by his side, and he was buried in a coffin under earth, wasn't even cremated.”

”But, what about Cas?” another child asks.

The old man is silent for a while, supposedly coming up with a fitting and satisfying end for their favorite character.

”Well”, he says. ”Castiel didn't die. He would live on for hundreds of years, sometimes changing vessel and sometimes moving to another town or country.”

The children slowly leave, disappointed with how the old man got tired of making up all those stories about supernatural creatures that has obviously never walked the earth.

And that's how the story about the Winchester brothers end, with an old man in a trench coat alone on a park bench, and no one sees how his eyes flicker white for half a second. And even if they would have, they would have dismissed it right away, because those were just the stories of an excentric old man that doesn't have anyone anymore. Right?


End file.
